Losing You Twice
by RAYNeeDAYZ
Summary: One-shot. After being hit by a distracted driver, seventeen-year-old Tweek Tweak wakes up to find that he is unable to recall any memories of the past two years. When Craig Tucker appears and claims that he's Tweek's boyfriend, Tweek realizes that he must try to remember those he'd forgotten.


**A/N So I recently became a piece of Creek trash, and I just needed to get a Craig x Tweek story out there. I had an AU idea, but it would've taken like, twenty chapters, and I already have three other fanfiction pieces that I need to finish. But I physically can't finish them. I'm on a Boys' Love kick, and writing about hetero relationships just doesn't do it for me anymore.  
**

 **So to curb my Creek craze, I decided to write this one-shot. It's a little rushed because I go back to school tomorrow (I'll be taking four writing classes) and I wouldn't have any more time to work on this beyond today.**

* * *

Everything was so _bright._

Tweek's eyes burned. The light was so harsh and blinding that it was as though he was looking straight at the sun through a pair of binoculars.

Eventually, though, his eyes were no longer so sensitive. The images of his surroundings sharpened into view.

The long, rectangular ceiling light above looked like the ones in his high school. He frowned. He wasn't in school, was he?

He sat up. It was immediately evident that he wasn't. But then, where was he?

The bed he was laying in was not his. It had some sort of metal railing against its sides, almost like a child's crib. The sheets that covered his body were thin and stiff like newspaper.

A thin, clear tube was taped to the inside of his left wrist. He yanked it off. A pinprick of blood immediately oozed from his skin.

Somewhere to his right, something beeped. It had been beeping when he'd opened his eyes, was still beeping as he looked around.

The room's walls and floors were the same shade of off-white. Tweek cringed. He hated off-white. It implied that the color had once been _white_ -white, but had yellowed with age, with dirt, with something _bad._

He kicked the newspaper sheets off to the side. His legs were exposed underneath the gray polka-dotted gown he'd somehow wound up in.

He lifted the neck of the gown. A multitude of what looked like red and blue headphone wires was taped to his chest. He followed their trail from underneath the fabric to the source of the beeping – a monitor that stood directly to his right.

 _Where was he?_

The beeping became frantic.

"Oh!" came a voice to the right. "You're awake!"

Tweek looked to find a woman's face peering at him from the door he'd failed to notice.

"Where…" His voice was hoarse. He cleared it before trying again. "Where am I?" It was the only thing he could think of to ask.

The woman moved over to the side of the bed. She was dressed completely in blue, save for the pair of white scrubs she wore on her feet.

A nurse?

She frowned. "Did you take your IV out? Oh, dear."

"Where am I?" Tweek asked again. He wasn't going to answer any of her questions until she answered his first.

The nurse patted him on the shoulder. "You're in the hospital, sweetie."

"The hospital?" he repeated. "Why?"

"You were hit by a car," she explained, enunciating each word slowly as though she were speaking a different language than him. "You've been unconscious for two weeks."

"I… what?" Her words made no sense.

"You were hit by a car," she repeated, not appearing particularly surprised by his confusion.

"I don't… I don't remember that."

"They never do." She started back for the door. "I'm going to get the doctor – wait right there."

He didn't think he had much of a choice. He was still hooked up to what he now recognized as a cardiac monitor, and even if he wasn't, he still had no idea what was going on.

A minute later, a man in a white coat entered the room. To Tweek's surprise, his parents were right on his heels.

"Tweek!" his mother exclaimed, running over to cup his face in her hands. Her eyes were shiny with tears.

"I can't believe it," his father added, his eyes just as shiny. "You're finally awake!"

"Mom, Dad…" Tweek stared at them in confusion.

They looked different than he remembered. Their hair had turned gray at the roots, and the lines on their faces had deepened. It was like they'd aged two years even though Tweek had been out for just two weeks.

"Tweek," said the main in the white coat. "I'm Dr. Frankwood."

"Was I really hit by a car?" Tweek asked. He needed to know.

The doctor frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. You suffered some broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a fractured pelvis. It's lucky that nothing more serious happened."

Tweek grimaced. It was strange learning what his injuries were when he didn't even remember what had caused them.

"Are you in pain?" the doctor asked.

"My chest feels a little tight, but that's about it."

"Probably from the broken ribs," Dr. Frankwood clarified. "Don't worry – we'll get you some painkillers right away."

But Tweek wasn't in _that_ much pain. What he was feeling in his chest was akin to the result of a long run – a little sore, but not something that required immediate medication. Otherwise, he really did feel fine, so much so that he was finding it difficult to believe that a car had really hit him.

"Tweek, I'm going to ask you a few questions, if that's alright with you," Dr. Frankwood said. He began firing off the first question before Tweek could respond. "What's your full name?"

"Tweek Tweak."

"Can you tell me your parents' names?"

"Richard and Cindy Tweak."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

His parents gasped in obvious shock.

Tweek looked at them. "What?"

Dr. Frankwood folded his arms and nodded as if this was what he'd been waiting to hear. "Ah-ha. There it is."

"What?" Tweek asked again. "What's wrong?"

"Tweek," the doctor said in the same slow tone the nurse had used. "You're seventeen."

Tweek laughed politely. He didn't think the doctor's joke was that funny, but he'd be polite nonetheless.

Dr. Frankwood stared back at him, unflinching in his gaze. He was being completely serious.

"Oh, come on," Tweek said, trying to keep his tone light amidst his rising hysteria. "I think I would've remembered my sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays."

"Tweek," the doctor started again. "Do you know what year it is?"

Tweek gave his answer. Apparently, it was the wrong one.

"Oh…" His mother was rendered speechless.

"What's wrong with him?" Richard demanded of Dr. Frankwood.

Tweek wanted to know the answer himself. He didn't feel like there was anything wrong with him, but there had to be something. Otherwise, his father wouldn't have asked.

Dr. Frankwood sighed. "Honestly, I can't say I'm that surprised. His CT scans showed that there was some slight damage to the anterior temporal region of his brain."

"Meaning…?" Cindy prompted.

"Meaning," the doctor continued, "you may find that some of Tweek's memories are gone."

"Gone?" Cindy repeated disbelievingly.

"How much is gone?" Richard asked.

"It's hard to say for sure," Dr. Frankwood said. "But from what Tweek has told us, I can guess that he's having the most trouble recalling events that occurred over the past two years."

Richard frowned. "Can we give him anything to help?"

Dr. Frankwood shook his head. "Right now, there are no specific medications used to treat this kind of memory loss. But the situation isn't completely bleak - those who suffer from retrograde amnesia may regain their memory with time. Tweek's physical recovery, however, is what we need to focus on the most."

Tweek could hear the conversation that was happening right in front of him, but his mind refused to make sense of it. It was all too difficult to swallow.

There was no way he could be wrong about his age and the year. He wanted to shake the doctor, shake his parents, and tell them that _they_ were the ones who were wrong. Because how could someone just lose his memories so easily? How could someone just forget two years of his life?

But more importantly, how could someone possibly remember what was forgotten?

* * *

It wasn't until later, when _he_ arrived, that Tweek realized just how much he'd forgotten.

Tweek was still lying in the hospital bed, staring directly into the ceiling light that had blinded him just hours earlier. He'd been trying to recall something, _anything,_ of the past two years, but his mind kept drawing a blank. He only ever remembered being fifteen. Any memory he might have had of being sixteen and seventeen had completely vanished, like dandelion dust on a windy day.

He was considering the possibilities that this was all a dream, or that his parents were pranking him, when _he_ arrived.

"Craig Tucker?" Tweek asked, puzzled. What the hell was someone like him doing here?

Tweek had recognized him by the blue knit hat he always wore. Like Richard and Cindy, Craig looked like he'd aged a few years. The baby fat on his face was gone, replaced by the sharp lines of early adulthood. He'd clearly grown in stature, too. He used to be one of the shorter kids in school, but now, his frame nearly took up the entire doorway. To Tweek, it was like the guy had grown overnight.

He didn't have particularly fond memories of Craig. Right before they'd entered high school, the boys had gotten into a physical fight. What it had been about, Tweek forgot, but it was pretty intense at the time. He'd even gone as far as to learn how to box to prepare for it.

Aside from their fight, Tweek and Craig had never really interacted much. Sure, they'd gone to school together since they were children, but that was pretty much the extent of their relationship. For all Tweek knew about Craig, they were strangers.

"What are you doing here?" Tweek asked.

"Your mom told me you'd woken up," Craig said, his voice deeper than Tweek remembered. "I thought I'd stop by to see how you were doing."

"My _mom_ told you this?" Tweek repeated. Why was his mom in contact with Craig Tucker of all people?

Craig nodded once. He lingered in the doorway, looking unsure if he should enter.

"Uh… you can come in, if you want," Tweek offered.

Craig's shoulders relaxed. Tweek hadn't realized that they'd been tense.

"Thanks." Craig moved over to stand by Tweek's bedside.

Even though he'd invited Craig in, Tweek was starting to feel a little unsettled. Craig wasn't offering any solutions as to why he was here. There was also the matter that he was staring directly at Tweek's face, almost like he was trying to memorize it. Tweek fought the urge to turn away.

Craig's expression was impassive – the perfect example of a poker face. But as he continued to stare at Tweek, his mask began to crumble. Tweek watched as the boy's blue eyes went from ice to fire, burning with some intense emotion Tweek couldn't place. He looked torn, like he had something to say but didn't know how to put into words.

Tweek had never seen Craig show anything other than his usual poker face. He'd always seemed so indifferent to everyone and everything. Seeing how he was now was as confusing as it was terrifying.

"So… what are you doing here?" Tweek asked again, promptly addressing the elephant in the room.

"I couldn't stay away," Craig said, his voice low. "I had to see if you were okay for myself."

"Why?" Tweek asked.

Craig flinched as if he'd just placed his hand on a hot stove. "I'll leave if you want me to."

"Wait, what?"

Craig took a step back. "Sorry if I upset you."

This conversation was growing more and more confusing. "I wasn't asking you to leave."

"You weren't?" Craig asked.

"No. I'm just curious as to why you're here. I mean, I appreciate the concern and all, but we hardly even know each other."

The shock on Craig's face was anything but subtle. All the color drained from his skin as if he'd just caught sight of a ghost. His lips parted, and his blue eyes grew big.

"You're joking, right?" Craig asked. "Or are you doing this to torture me?"

"What are you talking about?"

Craig studied him in quiet consideration. He looked like he was pondering whether or not he'd just been lied to.

"What is it?" Tweek asked, growing anxious. The cardiac monitor began to increase in tempo.

Craig swallowed hard. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Of course I remember you. We go to school together."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what _do_ you mean?"

"Tweek…" Craig hesitated, and then let it out. "I'm your boyfriend."

Tweek was immediately on the defensive. "Stop messing with me, dude."

"I'm not messing with you," Craig said, his voice suddenly quiet.

Tweek raised his eyebrows. "You're telling me you're my _boyfriend?_ Yeah, right. I'm not gay."

"You were the last time we were together." His voice was still quiet.

"Dude. You're not funny."

"I'm not trying to be."

"We once got into a physical fight," Tweek pointed out.

"I remember."

"We beat the shit out of each other."

"We did," Craig agreed.

"And you're trying to tell me that we're _dating?"_ Tweek shook his head. "I'm not buying it."

Wordlessly, Craig pulled his smartphone from his pocket. He touched the screen a few times, and then faced it toward Tweek.

It was a picture of the two of them.

"Let me see that." Tweek reached for the phone. Craig let him have it.

Tweek held the screen close to his face. The picture was impossible, and yet it existed. In it, Tweek had his arms wrapped around Craig's neck. Craig had his arms wrapped around Tweek's waist. Both of them were grinning like they were the two happiest people in the world.

It was like he was looking at an imposter. This person, who had Tweek's hair, face, and body, was not Tweek. He couldn't be. Tweek had never smiled like that. Neither had Craig, for that matter.

"Do you believe me now?" Craig asked.

Tweek thrust the phone away from him. Craig took it back.

"This is…" Insane. Absurd. Outrageous. A million words ran through Tweek's mind, but it was impossible to choose just one.

Five minutes ago, he was straight. Now, he was gay. He supposed it made sense – he'd never lusted after his female peers like his male ones. But when had he come out? Did his parents know? Why did his partner have to be _Craig Tucker?_

Two years' worth of memories suddenly felt like an entire lifetime. What had happened in two years to make him want to date the same boy he'd once thrown punches at? What wasn't he remembering?

He was going to be sick.

"Are you okay?" Craig asked.

Tweek shook his head. "No."

"Do you want me to get you some coffee?"

The cardiac monitor ran rampant. Did Craig know that coffee calmed Tweek down, or was that just a coincidence? How much _did_ he know about Tweek? How much had Tweek opened up to him?

Craig reached out toward Tweek as if he meant to touch him. Tweek slapped his hand away.

"Sorry," Craig mumbled.

"Can you… can you get a nurse?" Tweek asked. It sounded like he was being strangled.

"Yeah." Without a moment's hesitation, Craig turned on his heel and left.

Tweek didn't really need a nurse. He just wanted Craig Tucker out of his sight.

* * *

Tweek was allowed to leave the hospital two days later. His condition was stable enough, Dr. Frankwood said, but for another two weeks, he'd have to take anti-inflammatory medication for his pelvis.

The doctor also said that his body was in a fragile state, and that he needed to avoid physically demanding activities for the next four weeks. But because Tweek couldn't remember the accident, or the pain that came with it, it was hard to heed the warning seriously. In fact, he still found it hard to believe that there had even been an accident at all. The only thing he could show for it was the small incision under his left armpit that marked where a tube had been inserted to help drain the air caused by his punctured lung.

They didn't know who'd driven into him. It was a hit-and-run, the police said, and they were still looking for the culprit.

Before Tweek had left the hospital, the nurse handed him a smartphone. She said that it was in his pocket the day he was admitted. There was a thin crack in the screen, but Tweek didn't know if it had been caused by the accident, or by something before it.

There was nothing familiar about the phone. He was convinced it wasn't even his, but he couldn't search through it to find out. It was locked by a five-digit passcode, which he didn't know.

The Tweak residence appeared exactly how Tweek remembered. Every piece of furniture was in the same place it had always been. For a moment, Tweek was able to pretend that he wasn't missing two years of his life.

And then the new photo frame sitting on the living room coffee table broke the illusion. It showed a picture of the family at a beach. Tweek didn't remember going to a beach. The boy in the picture was the same imposter who'd been in Craig's picture.

He caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror and found that he looked different. He looked older, like his parents. Like Craig.

His closet was filled with new clothes, but he was pleased to see that his fashion sense hadn't changed. He still liked plain, button-down shirts.

He kept trying to remember. But his memories refused to surface. He might as well been fishing in an empty pool for all the progress he was making.

And then he got a small break.

He'd been passing the grand piano that sat in the corner of the living room when he absentmindedly played a B-flat. Just that one note. But before he knew it, both his hands were at the keys, and that one note quickly developed into a full-blown composition. His fingers had suddenly formed minds of their own. They knew where to go, like dancers rehearsing a choreographic sequence they'd long memorized. Tweak recognized the piece as Frédéric Chopin's _Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2._ He didn't remember ever learning it, but his body did.

It gave him hope. His memories were there somewhere in the recesses of his mind. He just had to keep digging.

* * *

Three days later, Tweek went back to school.

People openly stared at him, and he stared right back. It was amazing how much could change in just two years. Everyone he knew had lost all traces of baby fat. Well, everyone except Eric Cartman, who was still as fat as ever.

It seemed that people's relationships with one another had changed, too. Stan Marsh and Wendy Testaburger, once South Park's star couple, could hardly even look at each other. On the other hand, Clyde Donovan and Lisa Berger were apparently an item now, and they spent all of first period making out by the lockers.

Tweek's schedule was different. He was no longer taking the chemistry class he'd hated so much, but was now taking seven new classes that he didn't know if he liked. He still remembered the code to his locker, but it was filled with unfamiliar textbooks.

Going to class wasn't as bad as he'd expected. The teachers were aware of his situation and were far more lenient with him than they were with the other students. Still, they were incredibly pleased to discover that he'd retained most of what they'd taught him. In his calculus class, he was able to solve all the differential equations that were thrown his way. It was like playing the piano – he'd lost the facts, but he still had the skills.

He was surprised to learn that Mr. Garrison was no longer his homeroom teacher, and that Principal Victoria was no longer the principal. He wondered what had happened to them.

The biggest surprise of the day came right before lunchtime.

He was shoving his textbooks into his locker when Clyde Donovan and Token Black approached him.

"Finally back from the dead, huh?" Clyde said, wrapping his arm around Tweek's shoulders.

Tweek stiffened. "Y-yeah…"

"Glad to have you back," Token added. "It's been far too long."

"Yeah…" Tweek said again. Why were these guys talking to him?

"I can't believe you were out for two weeks," Clyde continued. "I was worried you'd never wake up."

"Is it true that you lost some of your memories?" Token asked.

For the third time in a row, Tweek said, "Yeah."

Clyde stared into his eyes. "But you still remember us, right?"

A fourth, "Yeah."

"Thank God." Clyde let out a relieved sigh. "It sucks that they never found the asshole who hit you. What kind of coward hits someone crossing the street and then runs away?"

"Don't worry. They'll find him eventually." Token nodded as if confirming his own words. "Nobody hits our friend and gets away with it."

 _Friend?_

Since when was Tweek friends with Token and Clyde?

Tweek had never been that close with anybody his age. He'd always been a loner. It wasn't that people bullied him – they just avoided him. And that had suited him just fine. He was too anxious to have friends. It was too much pressure to get people to like him, and then make sure that they _continued_ to like him.

Yet here he was, surrounded by people who were calling themselves his friends. It didn't make him happy, though. It made him nervous.

These boys were too familiar with him. They seemed to know him on a very deep level while he felt no emotional connection to them whatsoever.

How was he supposed to interact with them? Was he supposed to ask Clyde when he started going out with Lisa Berger? Or was he supposed to know that already? How _much_ was he supposed to know? How much did _they_ know? Did either of these boys ever open up to him about painful things that he'd forgotten? How could he? Did he have any other friends he was forgetting? Was that boy a few lockers away his friend? Or how about that one over at the water fountain? What were they to him? What was he to them?

He began to sweat.

"Hey man, you okay?" Clyde asked.

"I'm fine," Tweek insisted, though he was anything but.

"You sure? You got all twitchy all of a sudden."

A new voice chimed in. "Probably because you have your hands all over him."

They looked over at the newcomer. Tweek's heart sank. It was Craig.

Clyde grinned and pulled Tweek even closer. "What's wrong, Craig? Jealous?"

Craig walked over and landed a swift punch into Clyde's gut. Clyde _oofed_ and released his hold around Tweek.

"What the hell?" Clyde wheezed.

Craig rolled his eyes. "That didn't hurt."

Clyde wasn't done. "What'd you do that for?"

"Tweek's still recovering. Ease up on him, will you?"

"I'm okay," Tweek mumbled.

"Hear that, Craig? Tweek doesn't mind. Watch." Clyde reached for Tweek again.

Craig blocked his path. "Touch him again and I'll skin you alive."

Clyde feigned a shudder. "So possessive."

"Shouldn't you be sucking face with Lisa?" Craig asked.

"What, and miss out on being with my buddies? No way."

"I don't blame you," Token said. "It's been a while since the four of us were together."

Clyde nodded. "It's lucky that Craig and Tweek finally –"

" _Dude,"_ Craig cut in.

Clyde looked like he just remembered something important. "Oh, sorry."

The conversation ended abruptly. Token and Clyde fidgeted under Craig's warning glare.

Tweek looked at the three of them curiously. There was some kind of secret they knew that he didn't. Was he supposed to?

Token broke the silence. "How about we head off to lunch now? I'd like to get there before the line gets too long."

"Agreed," Clyde said.

With that, the four boys set off for lunch. They walked two-by-two, with Clyde and Token at the front, and Craig and Tweek at the back.

Tweek looked down at the ground. To say things were awkward between him and Craig was an understatement. They'd neither seen nor spoken to each other since Craig's visit to the hospital, and that hadn't exactly ended on a good note.

"How are you feeling?" Craig asked.

Tweek looked up at him. Craig's eyes were fixed down the hall.

"I'm fine," Tweek said.

"Did you get any of my texts?"

"I don't remember what the passcode to my phone is," Tweek explained, "so no."

"Oh," was Craig's response.

It felt like they were walking down the longest hallway in the world. Tweek wanted to run to the cafeteria so that he wouldn't be alone in a conversation with Craig. He didn't know what boyfriends were supposed to talk about, and even if he did, Craig still felt like a stranger to him.

Luckily, Craig was the one who took initiative. "How were your classes?" he asked.

"Good," Tweek replied.

"The teachers give you any trouble?"

"No."

"Tell me if they do, okay?"

"Okay."

And that was it. Craig had no further questions. Tweek, on the other hand, had a _ton_. He just wasn't sure if Craig could answer any of them.

Craig glanced over at Tweek. "You can ask me anything, you know."

Tweek felt his heart jump up into this throat. Had Craig known what he'd been thinking? Or was that just a coincidence?

Craig watched him with an even gaze, waiting.

"I don't have anything to ask," Tweek mumbled.

Craig turned his eyes back to what was in front of him. "Okay."

By then, they'd reached the cafeteria. The lunch line was well out the door.

Token's shoulders slumped. "Aw, man."

Clyde looked just as dejected. "Looks like it's gonna be a long wait."

Just as they got in line, someone tapped Tweek on the shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with Kyle Broflovski.

"Hey, Tweek," he greeted. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing okay."

"That's good," he said. "So, um, I know this happened a while ago, but I just wanted to thank you for helping me find Ike."

Tweek stared at him. "What?"

Kyle continued. "Like I said, I know it was a while ago, so this may seem really out-of-the-blue. But when you ended up in the hospital, I got worried that I'd never be able to thank you for what you did."

But Tweek didn't know what that was.

Kyle turned to Craig. "And thanks to you too, Craig. I know walking around in the woods looking for someone else's kid brother wasn't the most ideal way to spend a Saturday."

Craig shrugged. "I didn't mind."

Kyle rubbed the back of his head. "Well, that's all I really wanted to say. See you guys later." He moved past the line to squeeze inside the cafeteria.

Tweek began to sweat again.

"Tweek? You okay?" Craig asked.

"Yeah, just…" He started for the bathroom. "Go on without me."

Though Kyle's words were well meaning, they'd inadvertently made everything worse.

Helping to look for a child in the woods? That didn't sound like Tweek. That was too good, too _heroic,_ to be Tweek. He knew he wasn't a saint. What if he'd done bad things that people were choosing not to tell him?

It had been so easy to forget. So why was it so hard to remember?

He made it into the boys' bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. He released the choked cry he'd been holding in.

It felt like the imposter in the photos had been living Tweek's life for the past two years while he'd been asleep. Now that he was awake, he had to figure out what the imposter had been doing all this time and continue in his place.

He wanted to open up to someone. He wanted to get this anxiousness off his chest. But whom could he possibly confide in? He had friends, but he didn't know them that well. The most they could do was tell him about the experiences they'd gone through together. They couldn't tell him how he felt about those experiences, about the thoughts that had run through his head without ever moving past his lips.

Fat, ugly tears began rolling down his face. He was utterly alone. Nobody could help him.

The bathroom door flew open. He turned away, hoping that whoever just came in hadn't seen him crying.

"Tweek." It was Craig.

"What are you doing here?" Tweek asked, his voice wobbly. He fought to stabilize it. "I thought you were getting food with the others."

"You ran off like a bat out of hell. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"You're obviously not," Craig insisted. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing. You don't have to worry about me."

Craig huffed out a deep breath. "This isn't like you, Tweek."

He turned around. "What do you mean?"

"You're usually extremely vocal when you get anxious. But today, you've been keeping everything inside."

Tweek grit his teeth. It was frustrating how Craig knew him better than he knew himself.

"I can't remember anything," he snapped.

"I know you can't," Craig said. He moved forward. "That's why I want you to rely on me."

He reached his hand out. Tweek immediately flinched back. Undeterred, Craig placed his hand against the side of Tweek's face and, with his thumb, gently wiped away a trail of tears.

Tweek's face became a shade of bright red. He'd never been touched like this by anyone. Who knew the icy Craig Tucker could alight a fire within him?

He let his gaze fall to the floor. He had to look at something other than Craig's blue eyes or else they'd completely consume him.

"How can I rely on someone who's like a stranger to me?" he whispered.

Craig moved his hand to Tweek's chin and tilted it up, forcing the boy to look at him. "I may be a stranger to you," he said, "but you are everything to me."

Tweek's breath caught. How could he, a ball of anxiety, possibly be anybody's _everything?_

"I'm yours to use," Craig continued. "Push me away, and I'll leave. Call my name, and I'll come running. Whatever you want."

"What are you, a dog?" Tweek mumbled.

"I might as well be when you're involved."

Tweek moved his chin out of Craig's grasp. "I… don't know what to say."

Craig started to reach for Tweek again, then thought better of it and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I won't pretend that I know what you're going through, because I _don't_ know," he said. "But I'm not about to let you deal with such a heavy burden alone. Let me carry some of it, too. Tell me what's wrong, Tweek, and we'll work through it together."

Tweek swallowed back a new set of tears. "Everything's wrong."

Craig looked relieved. "You finally admitted it."

"It's just so hard." He inhaled a ragged breath. "I don't know who I'm supposed to be. I want to act normally around everyone, but I… I just can't."

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone," Craig said softly. "Just do whatever feels comfortable. I'll be there to guide you every step of the way."

"But everything's just so confusing. I have so many questions."

"I said that you could ask me anything," Craig reminded him. "While I won't have all the answers, I'll tell you everything I know."

"Everything?" Tweek asked.

"Yes."

"You promise?"

Craig didn't hesitant for a second. "I promise."

The ten-minute warning bell rang. Tweek jumped.

"Is lunch really almost over?" he asked.

"Looks like it."

Tweek felt his face fall in disappointment. He didn't want his questions to have a time limit.

"How about we continue this conversation after school?" Craig suggested.

Tweek nodded. "Okay. We can go to my house. My parents will be –"

"- Working at the coffee shop," Craig finished. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

The final bell of the day rang. Students poured out of classrooms and filled the halls of South Park High.

Tweek was putting his textbooks away in his locker when Eric Cartman approached.

"Hey, Tweek, how's it going?" Cartman asked.

This couldn't be good, Tweek thought. It never was when Cartman was involved.

"Fine," he replied.

"Good, good." Cartman peered at him with squinted eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're Eric Cartman."

"Just making sure. You see, a little birdie told me that you've lost your memories."

"Only some of them."

"Hmm." Cartman rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Exactly how much have you forgotten?"

"I don't know."

"But, like, do you remember what the guy who hit you looks like? Or what car he has?"

"No."

Cartman let out an enormous sigh of relief.

Tweek was immediately suspicious. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason." Cartman clapped him on the shoulder. "Just looking out for you, buddy 'ol pal."

Tweek may have found that he had new friends, but he was one-hundred-percent certain that Eric Cartman was not one of them. Two years couldn't change him enough that he'd ever consider having the town bigot as a "buddy 'ol pal."

"So they never caught the guy, huh?" Cartman went on. "What a shame."

"Yeah, the guy's an asshole."

That flipped a switch. "What did you say about me?!"

"I didn't say anything about you."

Cartman jabbed a grubby little finger into Tweek's face. _"You're_ the one who's the asshole, asshole! Next time, why don't you try looking both ways before you cross the street!"

Craig was suddenly beside them. "What's going on?"

Cartman whipped his head around. "Oh, hey there, Craig. You're looking very nice today."

Craig wasn't having any of it. "Get the hell out of here, fatass."

Cartman held his hands up. "Hey, I'm just being friendly."

"Go be friendly somewhere else."

"Okay, okay. Jeez. So this is what I get for trying to make light-hearted conversation..." Cartman disappeared down the hallway.

"Idiot," Craig muttered. He turned to Tweek. "Ready to go?"

Tweek nodded. "Yeah."

Like most of the students, Tweek lived only a few blocks away from the school, and the walk to his house was short.

As soon as they walked inside the house, Craig promptly made himself at home. He went straight up the stairs for Tweek's room and sprawled across the bed. Tweek nervously sat at the edge. He'd never had anyone else in his room, let alone on his bed.

"Still got all your questions?" Craig asked.

Tweek nodded. "Yes."

"Then ask away."

"Okay… here's the first one. How did I become friends with Clyde and Token?"

"When we started dating, you became part of our group," Craig answered. "That's really all there is to it."

"They know we're gay, right?" Tweek asked. "How many other people know?"

"Everyone."

Tweek blinked in surprise. "Everyone?"

"Everyone," Craig confirmed.

"As in, the whole school?"

"No. As in, the whole _town_."

"Including our parents?" Tweek asked.

"Yeah." Craig propped himself up on his elbows. "But don't worry – everyone supports us. We even have our own fan club."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not, though I wish I was."

At least Tweek didn't have to worry about coming out to his parents.

"What's the next question?" Craig asked.

"Oh, um… How did we start dating?"

"Ugh." Craig rubbed his hands over his face.

Tweek was immediately anxious. "What? What is it?"

"It's nothing bad," Craig reassured, "but you might think it's weird."

Tweek didn't like the sound of that.

"It all started when a group of exchange students began creating pictures of you and I," Craig began. "Some of these pictures were very… promiscuous."

Tweek _really_ didn't like the sound of that.

"Anyway," Craig continued, "people started thinking that we were together when we weren't. So to make rumors stop, we staged a public breakup."

"Wait, like acting?"

"Yeah."

"I _acted_ in front of people?" Tweek felt his heart rate spike. "That sounds awful. I'm a terrible actor!"

"Actually, you did well. A little _too_ well." Craig sighed. "Everyone was definitely convinced that we were through."

"Really?"

"Yeah. People got all depressed, like they felt sorry for us."

"What happened then?" Tweek asked.

"We decided to say that we were back together to make everyone happy again."

"So… we're only together to make everyone else happy?" That was a little sad.

"It started out that way," Craig admitted. "But somewhere along the road, we became the real deal. For me, it was only a matter of days before I developed feelings for you."

Tweek wished he could say when his feelings had developed for Craig.

"So how long have we been together?" he asked.

"About a year and a half."

"How…" Tweak hesitated.

"Yes?" Craig prompted.

"How far have we gone?" He needed to know.

"We've had sex, if that's what you're asking."

That had, in fact, been what Tweek was asking, but he didn't expect such a direct answer.

He dropped his head into his hands **.** He was no longer a virgin. Not to mention that Craig Tucker had seen _all_ of him.

Craig sat up and joined Tweek at the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe we went that far. And I don't remember any of it."

"Want me to remind you?"

Tweek's heart almost burst through his chest. "W-what? I don't – what?"

Craig laughed. "Relax – I'm just messing around. I won't have sex with you."

Tweek couldn't help but feel a little offended. "Why not?"

"Because you're still healing. I don't want to do anything that could hurt you."

Tweek was quick to identify the implication of those words. "Wait a minute. Am I always on the receiving end?"

"I guess so. Yeah."

"Why? Who decided that?" he demanded.

"I don't know. It just kind of happened that way. Are you mad?"

"Yes! I mean, no! Or… I don't know!"

"You've never seemed to mind," Craig said. "Well, except for the first time."

Tweek covered his ears. "Okay, okay! I don't want to talk about this anymore!"

"You're the one who asked," Craig said, but he dropped the subject.

Tweek continued to ask his questions until the sun was on the verge of setting. He learned that he and Craig had once ditched school to attend a music concert in Denver. He learned that they, along with Token and Clyde, had set their history teacher's grade book on fire and then blamed it on Eric Cartman. He learned that he had been thinking about moving to the East Coast after graduation to study music composition, and that Craig wanted to come with him.

The holes in his memory remained unfilled, but he was at least getting a brief, albeit blurry, image of what his life had been like. Still, he wondered about all the things Craig couldn't tell him, like his feelings, thoughts, and opinions. Without those, the Tweek in all these stories felt two-dimensional, like a poorly written character in an otherwise interesting novel.

"Let's take a break," he suggested.

Craig leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Has anything I've said so far helped you remember?"

Tweek shook his head. "No. Everything's still blank. It's like the past two years never even happened for me. But at the same time, my body seems to know certain things. Like, the other day, when I was playing the piano, I knew how to play this certain piece even though I don't remember learning it."

"Was it that song by… What's the guy's name? Chopin?"

Tweek was amazed. "You're familiar with Chopin?" When it came to composers, most people had only ever heard of Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach. Few people knew Chopin.

"I'd only ever heard of him because of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. One time, while we were out at this really nice restaurant your parents forced us to go to, the Chopin song came on. I said that I liked it, and you said that you'd learn it."

"Did I ever play it for you?"

"You did." Craig furrowed his brows. He was thinking about something.

"What is it?"

Craig looked back at him. "Can I kiss you?"

"What?" Tweek's face grew hot. "Where is this coming from?"

"You said it yourself. Your body remembers what your mind doesn't. Maybe if I kiss you, you'll remember something."

"M-maybe," Tweek tentatively agreed.

"So is that a yes?"

"I mean… I guess it can't hurt."

Craig grinned. "It's weird seeing you so shy. You were only like this for the first month we started dating."

"Trust me, it's a lot weirder for me than it is for you," Tweek grumbled.

"Then I guess we'll just have to get you used to it again."

Craig reached over and cupped Tweek's face between his hands. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel Craig's breath fan across his skin. Then, their lips were touching.

It was shocking at first. For all Tweek remembered, this was his first kiss. But then, like his hands at the piano, Tweek's body knew what to do. His mouth fit itself accordingly against Craig's like they were two pieces of the same puzzle, like they had touched a million times before. His hands reached up of their own accord and grabbed the collar of Craig's shirt, pulling their bodies closer together. Craig's tongue brushed against his, tentatively at first, and then with long, tender strokes.

And then, the strangest thing happened – Tweek began to remember. The memories came in fragments – Craig kissing him behind the school dumpster, at a music concert, in this very room. It was like watching an old movie in which the images flashed across the screen frame by frame.

He had to turn his head away for some air. But Craig wasn't finished. He knotted his hand in Tweek's hair and gently pulled, tilting the boy's face upward. His lips pressed a trail of kisses down his neck and, after undoing the top few buttons of Tweek's shirt with his free hand, against his collarbone.

Tweek shuddered and, after catching his breath, brought his mouth back to Craig's. Craig pressed his weight forward until Tweek had his back against the bed.

More fragments of memories followed. Craig and Tweek lying on the grass in someone's backyard. The two of them huddled on a sofa, watching a scary movie. The night they first had sex on this very bed.

With these memories came emotions so overwhelming that Tweek felt like his heart was about to stop. They flooded through every part of him like a stream to a pond. And just like that, there was no more doubt. He may not have remembered _everything_ about Craig, but he finally remembered how he felt about him.

Tweek didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He loved Craig Tucker, and he hated himself for forgetting that.

Craig pulled away and looked down at him. "Tweek? You okay?" he asked, breathless.

Tweek realized then that he was shaking. He nodded. "I'm okay."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's just that I…" Tears sprung to his eyes.

Craig looked horrified. He sat up. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have forced myself onto you."

"That's not it, Craig." Tweek sat up, too. He wiped his eyes and smiled. "It's just that I love you."

* * *

The next four days went by in a breeze.

After those first few memories surfaced, more and more followed. Tweek recalled snippets of experiences he'd shared with not only Craig, but with Token and Clyde, and school became much easier to deal with. He even remembered the passcode to his phone.

Craig continued to come by Tweek's house after school. They did things they'd used to do, like play video games, watch TV, and, of course, make out until they were out of breath.

"I know you want to come east with me for college," Tweek began one day at lunch, "but what do you want to study?"

Craig shrugged. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

"Dude. We only have a year until we graduate," Token said. "You need to make up your mind fast."

Clyde came to Craig's defense. "Hey, don't rush the guy. It takes time to figure out what you want to do for the rest of your life."

Craig raised his dark brows at Token. "See? Clyde gets it."

"Only because he's in the same boat as you."

"You guys don't have anything you want to study?" Tweek asked.

"Not really," Clyde said. "In all honesty, I don't even _want_ to go to college."

"Why not?" Token asked.

"Because we've spent seventeen years in a classroom. I'm not looking forward to spending an extra four."

Token sniffed. "Well, _I_ actually want a good job."

Clyde rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. I-Want-To-Be-A-Biomedical-Engineer."

The conversation ended at that, but Tweek grew worried. Craig was willing to put a thousand miles between him and the place he'd grown up for no reason other than Tweek.

"You really don't know what you want to study?" he asked as they sat in his room after school.

"This again?"

"It's your future," Tweek pointed out. "You should at least give it a little thought."

"You sound like my mom."

"Craig."

He sighed. "I have been thinking about it, okay? I just haven't decided on anything."

"Are you really sure you want to come with me, though? What if the school I go to doesn't have any majors that you like?"

"Then I'll force myself to like one."

"But –"

Craig cut him off. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"I'm just trying to help you," Tweek grumbled.

"I _said_ I don't want to talk about this right now." Craig's voice was a hair sharper.

His words brought forth another memory. But it wasn't one of laughter or kissing.

It was one of Craig glaring at Tweek, his blue eyes icy and cold.

Tweek gasped. When had that happened, and why?

"Sorry," Craig murmured. "I didn't mean to get nasty with you."

Tweek forced himself to focus back on the present. "It's okay."

But when Craig left an hour later, Tweek found himself thinking of that icy glare. It was so withering and hateful. What had Tweek done to deserve such a look? Would Craig answer if he asked?

The front door opened. "Tweek?" came his mother's voice. "Are you home?"

"Yeah," he called back. "I'm in my room."

A minute late, Cindy came through his door. "Hey, hon. How was school?"

"Good. It's getting easier, now that I'm starting to remember things."

"That's good. What are you up to?"

"I was hanging out with Craig, but he just left."

Cindy's brows shot up. "Craig was here?"

"Yeah."

She broke out into the biggest smile Tweek had ever seen her wear. "That's great! I knew you two would get back together."

Tweek froze. "What do you mean, get back together?"

Cindy frowned. "You don't know? I thought Craig would've told you."

"Tell me _what?"_

"Oh, honey," she said. "You broke up with Craig a month ago."

* * *

"I got your text," Craig said as he arrived at the local park. By then, the sun had long set. The only source of light came from the nearby lampposts lining the sidewalk. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Tweek cut straight to the chase. "Why did I break up with you?"

All the color drained from Craig's face. "Tweek…"

"Answer me."

He flinched. "I had meant to tell you."

"But you didn't," Tweek snapped.

Craig tentatively raised his hands like he was trying to calm a raging bull. "Tweek, honey…"

Tweek took a step back. "You said you'd tell me everything you know."

"I know."

"But you didn't."

"I know."

"So tell me now. Why did I break up with you?"

"Because I was an idiot."

"That's not a good enough explanation."

"But it's the truth." Craig put a hand over his face. "I… I was a jealous, insecure idiot. You'd been spending more time with Clyde and Token, and less with me. When I confronted you about it, things got heated pretty quickly. You called out how ridiculous I was being, and I didn't listen. That's when I said that…"

Tweek's heart was racing. "That…?"

"That I'd never developed any real feelings for you."

More pieces were added to the fragmented memory of Craig and his ice-cold glare. Tweek recalled the crushing heartache. He recalled feeling like he couldn't breathe. He recalled Craig's exact words: _I never loved you._

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"But it was a lie," Craig quickly asserted. He lowered his hand from his face. "You _know_ it was a lie. I've told you that my feelings are genuine."

Tweek couldn't speak. He didn't know what to think.

"After you broke up with me, I tried to get you back," Craig continued. "But you were done. You wouldn't talk to me. You wouldn't answer any of my calls. At school, you'd still talk to Token and Clyde, but not to me. It was torture, having you avoid me like that."

Tweek forced the words out of his mouth. "Were you just taking advantage of me and the fact that I couldn't remember?"

Craig looked stricken. "No, Tweek. That wasn't it."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared." His blue eyes grew distant, focusing on something in the past. "When I heard that you were in an accident, I… I thought I'd lost you twice. So when you woke up not remembering the terrible thing that I'd said to you, I just couldn't let you leave me again. I'm sorry."

When Tweek didn't say anything, Craig reached for his hands.

Tweek backed away. "Just… don't."

Craig let his arms fall to his sides. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, I'll leave. I just… I can't bear to look at you right now." He turned away and started for home before he could see what kind of expression was on Craig's face.

* * *

Tweek skipped school the next day. He'd told his mom that his body was hurting, and she didn't question him.

"You're still healing," she'd said. "I'm sure your teachers will understand."

Alone with his thoughts, he reflected on his relationship with Craig.

The crushing heartache of their breakup felt fresh. It knotted in his chest and took his breath away. How could Craig have said something so horrible to him?

And yet…

Tweek still loved him. Those feelings were still there, even through all the heartache.

But what was he supposed to do? End things with Craig, or forgive him?

He flopped onto his bed, torn between the choices. What would pre-amnesia Tweek have done?

As he turned over on his side, he spotted something on the floor. It was small and red, lodged between his bed and the wall. He reached down to pick it up.

It was a strange-looking, three-pronged plastic object, no bigger than the palm of his hand. As he held its center between his thumb and forefinger, it began to spin.

What was it?

He took it with him downstairs to where his father was sitting on the sofa. Richard had taken the day off from work to keep an eye on his son.

"Hey, Tweek," he greeted. "How're you feeling?"

"Good."

"Need any more painkillers?"

"No. I just wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, son."

Tweek held the object up. "What is this?"

Richard raised his brows. "You don't know? That's a fidget spinner."

"Fidget spinner?" Tweek tested the words out. They didn't sound familiar. "What's a fidget spinner?"

"They're supposed to help with anxiety. Nifty, huh? They became popular a little while ago."

Tweek spun it around. "Do they actually work?"

"Not for you, they don't."

"Then why do I have it?"

"Craig gave it to you."

Tweek gasped. "Craig did?"

"Yeah." Richard grinned. "Such a good boy, that Craig. Once, when you were having one of your meltdowns, he came over to give it to you. I think he was hoping that it would calm you down."

Tweek felt his chest tighten. "Oh."

Craig was right. Tweek _knew_ that his terrible words had been a complete lie. Someone who didn't really love him wouldn't touch him, worry over him, kiss him, the way Craig did.

And the only reason why Tweek had been so hurt was _because_ of how much he loved Craig. He had friends because of Craig. He'd helped look for Ike Broflovski in the woods because of Craig. Craig had made him into a better and happier person.

Another memory rose from the depths. It overtook his thoughts, playing in his mind's eye like a movie.

It was from the day of the accident.

In it, Tweek was running as fast as he could. Sweat dripped his face, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. The Tucker's house came into view – he was almost there. Too excited, he didn't even bother to look both ways before crossing the street.

Because he was on his way to take Craig back.

* * *

Tweek arrived to the school just as the final bell rang. Good, he thought. He hadn't been too late.

Students poured out of the building and into the streets. They parted around him like the red sea, casting him curious glances as he leaned over and heaved in deep breaths. Beads of sweat kept forming above his brow, and he wiped them away with his sleeve.

"Tweek?"

He looked up. Craig stood in front of him.

He straightened himself out. "Hey."

"Hey…" Craig looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

They continued to stand there, staring at each other while the river of students flowed around them. After what felt like an eternity, they were the only two around.

Tweek ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry – I guess I should've texted you."

"It's fine…" Craig still looked stunned.

"Um, so… I've been thinking about us," Tweek began.

Craig waited.

"And, well… I'm not mad at you."

Craig's blue eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm not mad at you," he repeated. "I know I was upset that you didn't tell me we'd broken up, but the truth is, I'd been planning to take you back anyway."

Craig opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"I may not remember everything about you," Tweek continued, "but I know enough. The only reason I was so mad at you was because of how much I love you."

"Tweek," was all Craig could manage.

He wasn't done. "You've always been there for me. Even when I called you a stranger, you were by my side. I'm a fool for throwing you away in the first place, and I'd rather get hit by another car than have us be apart – it would hurt a lot less."

"Don't say that," Craig murmured. "If I ever see you in the hospital like that again, I don't know what I'll do."

Tweek felt his eyes soften. "You've made me into a better person, Craig. There's no way I could never _not_ love you."

Before he could even blink, Craig's arms were around his shoulders.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Craig said, his voice low. "I love you, Tweek."

Tweek returned the embrace. "I know."

* * *

 **A/N Again, I know it's rushed. But I published this more for me, really. I've been sucked into the Creek fandom, and I don't think I'll ever get out.  
**


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